Tuesday, October 30, 2012

A Time of Love and War

This weekend I drove past the colony of ranch houses where the people in this story lived, and they have been on my mind ever since. This is an edited repost from a year ago.

Jose was born in the Tamaulipas state of Mexico. His mother died at his
birth and his father turned his infant son over to neighbors to raise.
Jose's green eyes set him apart from the other children. The family
turned him into a little more than an indentured laborer, having him
work long, hard days even before he started losing his baby teeth.

How he ended up in South Texas is a story that has been swallowed by
time, but he did show up at a large ranch here looking for work. He was
unsure of his age, but his scrawny frame and still growing legs must
have made him about 15 or 16.

What set Jose apart from the other workers was his cheery disposition
and his keen mind. He was never cross, although his days were physically
exhausting. He was intensely curious about all the world and even knew
how to read and write, something most of the other hands had no
knowledge of. The only thing he brought with him, other than the clothes
on his back, was a small, gold crucifix that had been his mother's. He
kept it close to his heart and never took it off.

The hard work and the steady, hearty meals served from the chuckwagon
and the ranch kitchen soon filled him out into a muscular man.

In the evenings, after he'd put away the horses and cleaned up his small
area in the bunkhouse, he'd take an old guitar someone had left behind,
sit outside on the porch and strum while singing the corridos he remembered from Mexico.

He couldn't help but notice Carlota, a shapely girl of 16 who was
usually outside in the early evenings watching her younger siblings as
they played near the bunkhouse area. Carlota was small in stature, but
feisty in temperament. Her dark eyes simmered with a fire that burned
just beneath the surface. He also caught her attention.

Jose had never had anyone to give his heart to, and now he gave it fully
to Carlota. She loved him as he'd never had anyone love him before,
with all the passion and flames she had inside her.

Soon, Jose and Carlota were betrothed. He dreamed of saving enough to
buy land, small pieces at a time, and farming with some of the new,
progressive methods he'd read of in the foreman's old Farm Journals. He
and Carlota would marry and have many children with sparkling eyes.

In Europe, though, events rumbled that would forever change the destiny
of not only Jose and Carlota, but of entire nations. The United States
entered into World War I and Jose, a new U.S. citizen, was one of the first to enlist from
the ranch. He explained to Carlota that he wanted the world to be safe
for the family they would have after they married.

Carlota's heart felt like it would shred into a million pieces from the
agony that gouged her inside, but on the surface, she kept her emotions
in check, so as not to worry Jose.

The night before he shipped out, they spent one last evening together,
and Carlota shed the restraint with which she usually conducted herself.
Jose promised her he'd come back, and they'd marry and begin their
lives together. He also pressed into her hand his mother's gold
crucifix, telling her it would be a part of him she would have until he
returned. She refused it, although she desperately wanted to cling to
it, because she said it would help to keep him safe. She added to the
chain two small gold beads she was saving to make earrings
for their wedding.

Carlota soon realized their night of love before Jose shipped out left
her expecting a child. Her family was aghast, but she knew Jose would
come home, they would be married, and all would be right again.

He'd only been in Europe a month when a fierce fight against the
retreating Germans left many casualties. Mangled and burned bodies
marred the battlefield and identification was difficult.

When the messenger came to the ranch that horrible day with the news
Jose had been killed in battle, Carlota thought she could never recover.
But, she had a baby in her womb to think about who was all that she had
left of Jose, and she channeled all her energy into preparing for this
baby's birth.

An older man, hunch backed and never married, came to Carlota's father
and told him he'd marry Carlota and take the baby as his own. Her father
never consulted Carlota, just hustled her with her packed bag to
the county office and to the priest for a quick marriage. Part of
Carlota's heart died that day, but a small flame rekindled when her
green eyed baby boy was born several months later. Her husband refused
to let her name him Jose, so he went by his stepfather's name. More
children were born to this couple, but only the eldest son had the
striking green eyes that reminded Carlota of Jose every time she looked
into them.

One afternoon, when Carlota's green eyed boy was seven,
he and his half brothers and sisters played outside near the old
bunkhouse where Jose used to strum his corridos.

A stranger came walking near and the children noticed him immediately
because of the burn scars on his face and his misshapen leg that made
walking a laborious and painful endeavor. The little ones were afraid of
him, but the green eyed boy stood his ground as the man drew
closer.

The stranger approached the children and spoke to them. His shoulders
slumped. He pressed something into the green eyed boy's hand and made
his way back down the road.

Later that evening, when her green eyed son told Carlota of meeting the
stranger, Carlota's heart raced as he told her the man had green eyes,
just like his, although the man's face was hideously scarred. He told
her of how the man asked about who he was, and who his mother was, and
about his family situation. Almost as an afterthought, he showed Carlota
the little crucifix with two gold beads the stranger had pressed into
his hand.

He did not understand why his mother then sank to her knees and wailed,
something he'd never seen her do. He also
did not understand why men on horses rode out that night to try and find
the stranger, although they never did.

The green eyed stranger was not heard from again, and when Carlota
died of a stroke several years later, whispering the name Jose, people
wondered why she would still have someone in her heart who'd been gone
for so long.

Her eldest son once again took possession of the small gold crucifix
that fell from his mother's hand on her deathbed, and in time, told his
own green eyed children and grandchildren the story of love and of
battlefields in Europe.

73 comments:

I think you've posted this story before, but I absolutely loved reading it a second time. Such a heartbreakingly romantic and tragic story. Wasn't Carlota a great grandmother of yours? Or am I thinking of another story. You've told us so many that I may be confusing them.

karen: Yes, it is one I've edited, and as I mentioned at the beginning, when I drove past those old ranching colony houses this weekend, it really put them in my heart. These folks are no relation to me, but I almost feel like they are~

Wow. Tears are falling, dear Shelly. I remember this story from a year ago and it still touched me very deeply as I read it again today. What Jose and Calota had is the very definition of love. I'm afraid too many young people today regard love as the manipulative game they see characters playing in Hollywood date flicks and TV sitcoms. Your story reminds us that love is all about patience, sacrifice and a willingness to endure immeasurable heartbreak and pain.

This is such a powerful story. It reminds me to be patient for the things that burn inside my heart, and not make decisions that go against what I deeply feel. I know that was a different time, when women would have had an extraordinarily hard life as a single parent. It's heartbreaking to think of her pain, and his decision to disappear.

I too remember this from last year, Shelly. It touched my heart then and it re-touched my heart today. Such a sad situation. I wonder what did happen to Jose and did he ever find someone he loved just a bit to spend his days with

Dearest Shelly,Yes, this story really gave me a strong impact last year. And I remember that I couldn't leave comment what I wish to say or satisfy myself. Your title expressed well that so many young people had to be separated at the war time. What a life both Jose and Calota had to lead! I can learn from this story that we need to fulfill our life whatever the situation God gave us. But I feel so sorry for Calota's short life thinking that she deserved the happy late life surrounded with children and grand kids. Her gold crucifix sure is symbolizes this story, dear Shelly!!! My father fought in a war and came back with weak physical situation (haha, you might know already), When young, I thought about things like 'if he couldn't come back, I wouldn't have been born' 'would his reticence character came from his experience?'... Despite his silent character, he has shown his sincere attitude for his job and love for us. I think he taught me how important to appreciate what we have without direct words. Thank you very much for the second chance, p;) And the way you said that her small in stature, but feisty in temperament reminds me a bit, haha.

orchid: You always express yourself so eloquently, my dear friend Miyako- I could never do as well if someday I was able to learn Japanese. Your description of your dad moves me, and I know he is an amazing person. War affects not only just people on the battlefield, but also many others who aren't even near the battlefield.

Dear Shelly, this story took away my breath. The poignancy of it. The enduring love. The heartache. I think you need to try and get this published in a magazine or Sunday newspaper. It spans the arc of life. Peace.

Dee: Just the tragedy of this story has always made me so sad for them, but as you said, the arc of life continues on in the succeeding green eyed generations. Thank you for your very kind words, my friend!

This story was heart breaking to me the first time I read it and it is as heart breaking to me now. Story telling at its best! Have you ever considered entering your stories in competitions?You are the best!

Lydia: The succeeding generations think it was a case of mistaken identity when he was reported dead. His face was very scarred and he had some gruesome injuries. Why it took him so long to get back, I don't know, but no one ever heard from him again. I would so love to track down more info~

ShellyA tender story, with a heart full of love. I am also struck by the fortitude that Carlota showed in becoming a faithful wife and mother, despite her losses.Wonderfully written, as always. Blessings to you - Marsha

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About Me

I am a teacher who loves learning, family, life, and the Lord. We are Christians who are intensely spiritual, although we try not to be religious. We live a quiet little country life deep in the hinterlands of South Texas. I also love health, fitness, and working out. I enjoy writing fiction and non-fiction. Stories and memoirs are my particular passion.